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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27342271">A Poet’s Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMakeMyselfLol/pseuds/IMakeMyselfLol'>IMakeMyselfLol</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Flirting, Chapter 2 is explicit, Disaster Lesbians, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Love Poems, PWP, Relationship Discussions, Sometimes you hear Yasha gave Beau a poem, Spoilers, and then it becomes this, and think huh I could write a poem, the mighty nein - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:40:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27342271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMakeMyselfLol/pseuds/IMakeMyselfLol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s kind of hard to be laser focused when the woman you have feelings for gives you a poem she wrote for you and you haven’t gotten a chance to fucking read it yet so it’s all that you can think about at all times as you trudge through endless snow. Yasha could literally have written a shitty limerick and Beau is pretty sure she’d still want to pass out just thinking about reading it. <br/>+ explicit content in chp.2</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beauregard Lionett/Yasha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>290</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Listen, has Yasha edited the poem she wrote with Jester at all? Who knows. All I know is that if she has, it could be something like this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They have a lot going on. The understatement of the century in Beau’s opinion - she’s still trying to get the image of Vess de Rogna’s bloodied face out of her head as the Mighty Nein trek through the vast empty expanse of Eiselcross in pursuit of Lucien. She keeps having to remind herself of that too; that it’s Lucien they’re chasing, not Mollymauk, even if the guy is wearing his skin. Or Molly was wearing Lucien’s and now he’s taken it back? Either way is pretty fucked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plus the speak with dead had raised so many questions about what Molly was, because if he was the mistake nonagon, what the fuck was the success going to look like? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien had managed to ice an archmage in one fell swoop - the woman hadn’t struggled, there was no arcane signature in the room, she hadn’t even managed to get a spell off before she died with blood pouring from her eyes - so clearly there was something powerful to be gained by completing the ritual, which didn’t really sound great for their continued living if it came down to it in a fight if Beau was honest. And all that stuff about the Somnovum and whatever Cognouza could be, again, probably not ideal if the key is a vessel - sort of suggests that some more powerful entity will be taking up residence and fucking shit up. Lucien had a head start, they had no clue where exactly the tomb takers were headed next, and Fjord had just kind of picked an A on the map because it was halfway between A1 and A2 - for all they knew that could be the wrong one, and they would have frozen half to death for nothing. Jester couldn’t scry on the slippery little shit because he had true sight now, not to mention the fact that the Assembly would find out soon enough that Vess was a) dead and b) that they had been meant to protect her, which was definitely going to cause problems. So, all in all, there was a lot to think about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Beau wasn’t thinking about any of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, she was. But not as diligently as she might have been without a piece of parchment burning a hole in her pocket. Ok so it wasn’t in her pocket it was stuck securely under her sash so she could feel it safe against her skin and it couldn’t fly away in the wind or something. Shut up. It was nearly driving her out of her mind not reading it, but last night they had been forced to use the dome because Caleb had already cast the mansion to hide Vess and Beau wasn’t going to read it with everyone around. Not even when she could feel Yasha’s eyes flicking to her throughout the evening, and their eyes would meet and Beau knew she was blushing just as hard as Yasha was every time, so much that Caleb had muttered something about marshmallows in Zemnian before they had all gone to sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beau was dying to read it. Yasha had written her a poem. Her. Beauregard Lionette had a full ass poem written for her by a devastatingly attractive, incredibly gentle and kind woman who she had felt something for since the day they met. No one had ever written her a poem before. No one had ever even written her a full note before (Keg’s half scribbled out thank you card, while hilarious and kind of cute, didn’t really count) so this was kind of a big deal. It’s kind of hard to be laser focused when the woman you have feelings for gives you a poem she wrote for you and you haven’t gotten a chance to fucking read it yet so it’s all that you can think about at all times as you trudge through endless snow. Yasha could literally have written a shitty limerick and Beau is pretty sure she’d still want to pass out just thinking about reading it. Which is probably why she full body crashes into Jester as the group stops walking without her realizing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beau, are you okay? You’ve been all” Jester makes a dreamy sort of face at her, swaying on her feet “all day. I had to get Caduceus to pull your goggles on for you.”  Beau takes a second to realise the reason they’ve stopped is that it’s gotten dark and sure enough she has her night vision goggles firmly strapped on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Jessie, I’m fine, just a lot on my mind, ya know? I got a lot of reading to do tonight.” Beau fights to keep from looking over at Yasha, who is chatting to Veth about something as Caleb casts the tower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I’m going to ask the traveller so much stuff tonight, Caduceus and I are gonna try to get as many answers as we can, I might even commune like he does just to be sure.” Jester nods contemplatively back at her. Now that Beau is actually thinking about it… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, do you think you could message Udala Phon and ask them to like, look into some of that weird shit Vess was talking about? Maybe the Cobalt Soul will have some information we could use now that we have a little more to go off.” Jester beamed up at her as they huddled together around the rod of hand warming, waiting for Caleb to finish the spell.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a good idea Beau! I’ll send it now : Hey Udala, it’s Jester, can you please look into Cognouza and The Somnovum, also Nonagon if you have time, it’s super important, thanks. You poopin’?” A beat passes in silence as they wait for a reply and then Jester gives her a big thumbs up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They said that they would get the best monks on it and also that we’re their favourite and they love to hear from me and wish I would message like, everyday or something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau can’t help but laugh at the thought of what they must really have said, probably about the late hour of their call and Jester’s naturally exuberant messaging style as the shimmering door appears before Caleb, to the delight of their party and the surprise of Dagen. Everyone rushes inside the hearth warm interior, with Caleb explaining to Dagen how to use the central levitation system to travel through the building, and where the guest room was located. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is by far the most accessible wizards tower I’ve ever been in, that’s for sure. Does it come with Vodka?” Dagen’s gruff voice piped up, impressed, and Veth answered proudly, her hand on Caleb’s arm as she spoke of the many miracles of this tower he had designed for them all as the Nein floated their way to the dining room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner is good. Beau is pretty sure it's good, she hasn’t really been paying attention to what it is she is stuffing into her face, just that it was hot and if she finished it fast enough then she could go to her room and read the poem finally. Yasha had seemed nervous all through dinner but when Beau caught her eye she smiled softly and Beau almost choked. Smooth. When everyone is finished there’s some discussion about what their next move should be - it will take another day or two at least to reach their destination, and there’s a mile of lava to get over before they get there as well as any number of yetis, rhemoraz, and other ice beasties to contend with. The Nein agree to gather as much information as possible from deities and books and notes, whatever they can think of to try and get ahead of whatever terrible thing Lucien is attempting to set loose. They scatter to their rooms and that is the moment Beau has been waiting for. She can feel Yasha’s eyes, hot on the back of her neck as she dashes off to her room, heart racing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shuts the door firmly behind her and breathes deeply for a few moments, trying to calm the thundering beat of her heart as she reaches into her wraps and pulls out the parchment, still folded and warm from her skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How does she want to do this? Does she just rip it open right here, or should she be like, on the bed, or at her desk? Should she be sitting down? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking around her rooms Beau decides, as the paper quivers in her nervous hands, that maybe she should sit for this or risk the ultimate embarrassment of her knees betraying her. Gods this is nerve wracking. Beau folds herself into her desk chair, hoping that the familiar surrounding might calm her down a bit. It’s a crazy thing, that just the promise of words from Yasha’s heart has her feeling things she never has before in her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “It’ll be <em>really</em> fucking embarrassing if this is about something else.” Beau mutters, steeling herself. Her mind strays back to the night after the burlesque show, and Yasha’s quickly rescinded offer to shnuggle, and her hand brushing glitter from Beau’s cheek as they stared at each other in the dark. She swallows hard. “Ok. Ok. You got this, it’s fine, it’s just words on a piece of paper, no big deal, you can handle it. You got this.” Beau closes her eyes as she unfolds the parchment, taking one last long deep breath before opening her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When I think of blue</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I picture you, Beau,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eyes like petals,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Flowers in full bloom,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh Beau,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>soft strands shorn </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>still protecting your mind,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>so keen and yet still kind,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Beau,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>with the heart of a lion,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>beating fiercely within,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span><em>Beau</em>,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>a <em>beauty forged all her own</em></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>built into abs and fists and grins,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am stunned </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span><em>without ever having been touched</em>,</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Beau,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Breaker of chains,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <em>The slightness of your frame </em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>a weight I dream of holding,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>enveloped in my wings,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>caressed in my hands,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span><em>treasured in my heart</em>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beau stares at the page as it becomes slightly damp, little splashes she is careful to insure don’t smudge a single line of ink dotting it as she reads and rereads every word. She didn’t know what she expected but this… this was a love letter to her. Specifically and undeniably, Yasha had given Beau her heart on a piece of parchment. She had given her heart up for judgment two whole days ago and Beau had been carrying it this entire time without a clue. No wonder she had looked nervous, Beau would have been coming apart at the seams if she had ever been brave enough to do this. Sure, she had hoped Yasha would make the first move, and Yasha was quiet, private - she should have expected something like this that would just knock her six ways to Whelsen. But <em>holy shit.</em> She reads it again just to be sure she isn’t hallucinating. “Nope, it’s still romantic as fuck. Gods.” Beau loves this woman. And she needs to tell her that right this second or she might collapse into a fugue state just thinking about the poem for the rest of time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beau walks, parchment in hand, very chill and cool, across the hall to knock on Yasha’s door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau slips into her room, finding Yasha arranging flowers, her back to the door, only turning when Beau is halfway across the room already. She freezes, looking at the paper in Beau’s hand and then back up at Beau’s face, one hand rubbing the back of her neck as she blushes, and Beau can’t speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s pretty embarrassing I know, and not very good I’m not really a poet but I thought it might be easier to maybe have something kind of written down because it’s kind of hard to say stuff like that sometimes and it’s like pretty warm in here I’m getting sort of sweaty just being in here are you” Yasha babbles away, her pale face rose pink with a blush, and Beau had planned to be cool about this. She was suave with women, knew what to say and all the moves that made women swoon. That all went out the window pretty much as soon as Yasha had made eye contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like that. You to, you said - or I guess you wrote… I would like to do what you...I’ve never. You are the first person that has ever meant something to me, like this. And,” Beau brandishes the paper like it might somehow magically make her more articulate, as if anything could help when Yasha is looking at her like that “I think you’re incredible, and strong, and so beautiful, more than any flower that exists, and then you wrote me this poem and it made me cry, to think that this is how you feel about me… I’ve wanted you for an embarrassingly long time. But I didn’t want to push you and I still don’t. Whatever you want, Yash. However you want me; wings, hands, heart - I’m yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Beau wonders if she has misread the situation, or maybe overstepped, because the silence that falls in the wake of her stuttering confession is deafening. Yasha closes her eyes, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here.” She murmurs softly, and Beau walks meet her, standing almost toe to toe when Yasha reaches one hand up to cradle her face and Beau basically melts into it as she opens her eyes, the violet and blue completely mesmerising this close up. “You’re mine?” Beau cannot speak, only nodding her head in Yasha’s hand. A smile unlike any Beau has seen on Yasha before grows across her lips. “Then I am yours.” And Yasha is kissing her, her mouth a revelation against Beau’s own. It is gentle at first, and then Beau has her hands in Yasha’s thick hair, and the kiss deepens, and it feels like being caught in a storm, like being struck by lightning as Beau kisses her with abandon. Beau feels electrified by it, like they could create anything just by the sheer energy release of this kiss. This must be what the Gods feel like. Yasha’s hand running over her abs, the bare skin contact alone was incredible, and Beau thinks about the poem, about how Yasha had taken the time to write about her fucking abs in her love poem, and she kisses her harder still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so <em>small</em>,” Yasha growls between kisses, gathering Beau closer into her until they are pressed together entirely “I could just…” Beau doesn’t wait to hear the rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Any way you want to touch me Yash. Gods, look at you.” Yasha is rumpled and kiss drunk, practically glowing with it, as she wraps her hands around Beau and just lifts her off the ground, spinning so she is pinned between Yasha and the flower covered wall, legs wrapping around her muscled back. Everything is Yasha, her lips and her hands and the incredible heat of her body, and Beau has never wanted another person the way she wants Yasha. The telltale tinkling crash of a vase hitting the floor startles them both, breaking the kiss to leave them panting as they assess the damage. It’s only the one vase broken, and Yasha turns back to face a still suspended Beau fairly quickly, but averts her gaze a bit, all of a sudden shy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well. That was. Wow.” Beau finds words just sort of happening without thoughts. Yasha chuckles at that, and meets Beau’s gaze and instantly that electric charge is back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It was pretty… yeah. I have not done anything like that in a long time, so. I’m glad that you wanted to. Do it. With me.” Beau feels her eyes widen as Yasha (correctly but probably not on purpose) sort of suggests that Beau wants to ‘Do it’ with her. While she has her pinned up against a wall. This is literally a dream Beau has had before. “Do that! Not do it. I mean, I hope you… I am going to stop talking now.” Yasha facepalms with a groan “You make me so flustered Beau.” Beau can’t help but grin at that, leaning in to a flustered Yasha and taking her hand down. She does not let it go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make me flustered too. And just for the record, I definitely do. Like. A lot. In case that was unclear please mark me down as very very much interested in that with you. If you want.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence falls, charged and intimate between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do want.” Yasha speaks softly, lifting Beau’s hand to her lips. “I want you so badly I don’t even know where to start.” Beau swallows hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods, Yasha. Take me to your bed, please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she does.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Henry Crabgrass would be pleased; sometimes two disasters have to talk it out before they get it on.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah. It was pretty… yeah. I have not done anything like that in a long time, so. I’m glad that you wanted to. Do it. With me.” Beau feels her eyes widen as Yasha (correctly but probably not on purpose) sort of suggests that Beau wants to ‘Do it’ with her. While she has her pinned up against a wall. This is literally a dream Beau has had before. “Do that! Not do it. I mean, I hope you… I am going to stop talking now.” Yasha facepalms with a groan “You make me so flustered Beau.” Beau can’t help but grin at that, leaning in to a flustered Yasha and taking her hand down. She does not let it go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You make me flustered too. And just for the record, I definitely do. Like. A lot. In case that was unclear please mark me down as very very much interested in that with you. If you want.”  </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Silence falls, charged and intimate between them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I do want.” Yasha speaks softly, lifting Beau’s hand to her lips. “I want you so badly I don’t even know where to start.” Beau swallows hard.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Gods, Yasha. Take me to your bed, please.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And she does.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasha carries her across the room like she weighs nothing, through to her bedroom with ease and then casually lets go to shut the door with one hand - never letting Beau slip an inch. She didn’t even look while she did it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.” Beau says as Yasha closes the distance to her bed in three more long strides, gently laying Beau down on her blankets and suddenly Beau is surrounded by Yasha’s scent - how Caleb had magically added that feature Beau didn’t know or care because there was nothing like it. She had joked a long time ago about smelling like a crayon (fuck, that had been so cute) but in truth Yasha’s scent reminded Beau of mulled wine and winter snowstorms, something spicy yet fresh that made goosebumps form across her skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau luxuriated in it for a moment, only a split second before Yasha’s muscular arms were bracketing her face and she was stepping between Beau’s legs, leaning down and just looking at her. She stares up at Yasha, at the rose flush that made her cheeks glow, and the dark makeup that framed her wide eyes, searching her own for an answer to a question Beau didn’t know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> She swallows hard, and Yasha absentmindedly traces the movement of her throat with her hand, before realising what she’s done and going to pull back, still uncertain of what the line they are crossing really is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I change my answer,” Beau murmurs, sitting up so that Yasha is not bent above her so much as meeting her in the middle, and slowly runs her thumb down the tattoo that adorns Yasha’s full lower lip, feeling her shudder before leaning in “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>A nd then she’s kissing her again, softly at first, just long minutes spent pouring soft affection from one to the other, only breaking apart to breathe in each other’s space. Yasha is skittish, Beau can feel it as they breathe together and Yasha’s eyes are still shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s okay. We really don’t have to do anything here. You know that, right?” Beau asks gently, keeping one hand on Yasha’s cheek as she waits for her to collect her thoughts enough to speak on them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not that I don’t. I do… it’s. Ugh.” Yasha sighs in frustration, pulling back until she is standing and starting to sort of pace. A different Beau, one who didn’t understand herself, let alone anyone else, would have felt that as a rejection and fucking bolted. This Beau? Knows better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beau scoots to the edge of the bed, planting her feet on the floor and then reaches out for Yasha’s hand, catching around her wrist, making Yasha turn to look at her. Beau smiles what she hopes is encouragingly as Yasha meets her gaze and blushes even further, groaning.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to talk about it?” She suggests calmly, drawing Yasha back to stand in her space - and Yasha allows herself to be led. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s… embarrassing.” Beau stands up at that, taking Yasha by the hips and spinning them around before nudging her to sit where Beau had just been moments before, which Yasha again permitted- Beau was under no illusions that if Yasha wanted to stay put, she was strong enough to hold fast like a precious, stubborn mountain. Once she is settled, Beau kneels down, using Yasha’s knees as a support to rest her arms and head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yash, you’ve seen me get shot in the ass. You’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to carry my loopy concussed butt off the battlefield. There is, and I say this with full confidence, nothing you could say to me that should make you feel embarrassed. I’m the embarrassing one between the two of us. You can say anything to me. I mean it, I won’t judge.” Beau smiled as this got a chuckle out of Yasha. A moment passes, and then Yasha breathes deep.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That is all very true, thank you Beau. You really do make me..” she trails off, laughing to herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anytime.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their eyes meet, and that frisson of something, even in the midst of this in between moment, that spark is lit anew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The thing is that it has been… a while since I… and you are so beautiful people line up to spend a moment with you and I want you, Kord knows I do but I don’t want… I feel like I might disappoint you, or something, I don’t know. It’s stupid.” Suddenly Yasha won’t meet her gaze, face burning, and Beau is dumbstruck. How could she ever think…?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yasha, hey, can you look at me for a sec?” Beau implores her, gently tilting Yasha’s chin, turning her face back towards her own. “Yash, this is… you could kick me upside the head and I’d leave here on cloud fuckin nine. Seriously. You basically turned me into goop just looking at me a minute ago. The fact that any of this is actually happening at all is enough, I can never be disappointed again, sorry, I don’t make the rules.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasha laughs softly, shaking her head and pressing a kiss to Beau’s palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that is quite true, Beau, sweet as it is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau, still wondering how she could imagine Beau would ever be disappointed by any of this, begins to mime as though she is writing in one of her many notebooks. “Let me see here, tonight’s disappointments: get an incredible poem written for me? Check. Kiss the most beautiful woman on Exandria? Yup did that too. Have that same perfect creature essentially tell me that she cares so much about what happens between us that she wants it to be perfect?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasha’s shy smile grows as Beau goes on, the waterfall of her hair a comfort that she can hide behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have met the Ruby of the Sea, and you are sitting right there-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The most beautiful. Hands down no contest. Marion is hot and all, and I’m not too bad myself of course, but you? The most beautiful woman I’ve ever even imagined. And you care about me, the same as I care about you? How could I ever be disappointed, you want to kiss me, I'm living a dream!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is a beat of silence as Yasha blinks and then shifts forward, something clicking into place behind her eyes and there is heat within, and Beau is suddenly hyper aware of where she is kneeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beau?” The way she says it, quiet, coy, sends tingles down Beau’s spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you saying you dream about me?” Yasha is smirking now, confidence building and fuck if it isn’t extremely sexy to watch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau can only nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I tell you a secret?” She whispers into Beau’s ear, and Beau can feel herself arching up into the heat of her breathing “I dream about you too. Would you like me to show you how?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please.” Beau breathes, and Yasha is kissing her, a lightning strike, her lips the only succour. They surge together, and Beau isn’t sure how but suddenly she’s in Yasha’s lap, straddled across her muscled thighs as they kiss. Her mouth tastes sweet, like syrup and pancakes and Beau wants to be devoured the same way, wants to be the taste on her tongue, even if it means being transmuted into a pancake. Yasha kisses rational thoughts right out of Beau’s head, which would have been enough, but then Beau feels her calloused hands at the hem of her shirt, lifting it off and tossing it aside and repeating the motion on her own sleep shirt and Beau is short circuiting. Yasha’s hands are on her waist, kissing again as soon as they’re both shirtless and Beau is kissing back but she is looking down at where they, if she wriggles a little closer, will be bare skin to bare skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s one thing to have a little look at your friends in the bath house or the hot tub. It’s another thing to have them kissing the life out of you and then getting naked and being presented with Yasha’s insanely ripped nude body. So sue her, she’s a little awestruck. She’s so close Beau could touch her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau attempts to form a coherent thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Fails. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasha chuckles, pulling Beau closer, taking her hands from their spot nestled in the thick mane of her hair and, wrapped in Yasha’s own hands, placing them against her abs, and slowly, lifting them upward. Beau cannot believe this is happening as she feels the smooth planes of Yasha’s skin beneath her palms, every few seconds Yasha is catching her eye, checking in nonverbally that Beau is ok with this; Beau has pretty much never been more ok with something in her life. She knows she could take the initiative and speed up the inevitable conclusion of this slow process up towards Yasha’s ample breast, but there is something undeniably erotic about Yasha setting the pace of it, moving Beau’s hands on her, showing how she wants it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.” Beau wishes she could be more eloquent in the moment, but with her hands full of Yasha’s tits there is nothing to be done about it, she wants this image seared into her mind, fuck eloquence, she wants...she wants. “Fuck.” Beau kisses her some more, hungrily, and then trails away from her perfect face down onto her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasha gasps, just a little intake of air as Beau kisses and licks and nips at the alabaster skin of her neck, arching into her with little noises of pleasure that Beau could die happy hearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beau.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau hums against her neck, still kissing when she feels Yasha’s hand lift her chin up, and the look Yasha gives her is searing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trousers off.” Beau scrambles to comply without losing contact with Yasha’s lap, but unfortunately this is maybe physically impossible. She resigns herself to having to actually get up with her trousers stuck above the knee when Yasha rolls her onto her back and dips her fingers into the waistband.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I?” Yasha asks, all politely, and Beau nods enthusiastically as she pulls the offending article of clothing the rest of the way off, dumping them to the floor, leaving Beau in just her underwear. Yasha runs a reverent hand from her ankle to her calf, knee to her thigh and Beau knows that Yasha must be seeing them quiver beneath her hand. She nearly gasps when the sensation is suddenly gone, only to look down and see Yasha divesting herself of pants. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wow.” Beau had forgotten Yasha didn’t do underwear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Naked, she is a vision, like something sculpted from marble, pure muscle and heat above her and Beau actively feels her mouth water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Look at you, gods Yasha.” Beau swallows, feeling heat pooling between her legs as she takes Yasha in, running her hands from her thighs to her chest, slow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So fucking gorgeous.” If Beau was to offer anything to a god, it would be something like this; wonder and worship in equal measure. At the altar of Yasha, she would happily kneel for the rest of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>”You are so </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span> Beau.” Yasha dips to kiss her again, and they are pressed together entirely for the first time skin to skin. They break apart only to breathe, panting into each other's mouths. The room is warmer now with their heat, and Beau, with Yasha’s forehead pressed against her own, vibrant eyes intent, that little smile curling across her mouth, knows exactly what she wants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I taste you?” She murmurs into the inches of space between their mouths, watching Yasha gulp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Please.” Yasha allows Beau to pull her back into a deep kiss, and to roll her onto her back so she is pressed into the mattress. Beau grins down at her, kissing her jaw, down to her neck, scraping just a little bit with her teeth to make Yasha shiver. Beau travels downward, kissing a path along her collarbones, teasing at her rose pink nipples, biting marks into first the left and the right breast, and Yasha can’t help but hold her head close to her skin, a little demanding of more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasha is burning, desire licking its flames through her body like Beau’s kisses, the slow caresses of her palms, can penetrate through her skin - it is something she hasn’t felt in a long time. She knows that when Beau eventually makes her meandering way to it, that she is wetter than most would expect. Who could blame her? Beau is a vision, her tanned skin flushed and glowing against Yasha’s, leaving her mark all over her body, sexy and confident in her movements - utterly focused, and supremely competent. Yasha gasps softly, arching as Beau kisses at her hips, running her hands up and down her thighs. She chances a look down, groaning as she watches Beau slink between her thighs, reverent hands parting them, before she looks up and catches her gaze. Her pupils are blown out and Yasha watches Beau’s tongue swipe along her full lower lip, as if in anticipation of a good meal. Yasha knows she’s going to be in trouble from the smouldering look alone, before Beau even opens her mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you like it, Yash?” Beau asks quietly as she lays herself out between Yasha’s thighs, getting comfortable, moving her hands along them, ever closer to her aching clit. “Do you like it all hard and fast, like we might get caught any second, until you’re screaming?” Beau follows her hands with her lips, open mouthed kisses and long swipes of her tongue along the soft skin of Yasha’s inner thighs. Yasha can’t speak, soft surprised sounds falling from her lips as Beau teases, parting her lips with one finger. “Or maybe you want it slow, soft. Bringing you right to the edge again and again until you’re begging for me. I would be so fucking gentle with you if you wanted me to be Yash. Whatever you want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck, Yasha hasn’t been this aroused in years, knows she must be soaking Beau’s fingers as she whispers filthily to her and her mind is filled with the vivid images Beau paints for her consideration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Beau,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She groans out  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just</span>
  <em>
    <span>...</span>
  </em>
  <span>touch me. I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  <em>
    <span>” </span>
  </em>
  <span> Beau wants that to be the only sound she ever hears, Yasha moaning her name. She’s barely touched her yet, just playing with her and she’s dripping wet which in turn sends pangs through Beau’s own body. Beau’s pretty sure she’s never wanted anyone this much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna fucking make </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>to you Yash, we can go all rough next time if you want but I want you to feel how much I want to just...fuck you’re so </span>
  <em>
    <span>wet.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Beau runs her fingers through the slick and, making sure Yasha is watching, sticks her fingers in her mouth, sucking her juices down with a moan.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Beau</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Yasha gasps as Beau nuzzles into the dark hair, relishing the rich scent of her arousal before finally parting her folds with her tongue, finding her clit with ease. Beau laves at it with her tongue, slow, rolling motions that have Yasha crying out beneath her, fisting the sheets first and then Beau’s head, not pushing, just holding. She’s so responsive, every new sensation getting a new moan from Yasha. Beau strokes one finger at Yasha’s entrance, dipping just inside in time with each lick. She continues like this for a while, could have been minutes or hours, waiting to feel Yasha grinding down into her mouth, unable to hold back, and then she knows it’s time to give more. In the same moment, she sucks Yasha’s clit into her mouth and slides two fingers inside without resistance, stroking the walls of her rhythmically. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yasha keens beneath her, her thighs clenching around Beau’s ears, and Beau hopes these rooms are soundproof because otherwise Caduceus would be getting an earful. “Beau” Yasha pants, her chest heaving, “I’m close, I’m oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck.” </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Beau crooks her fingers, feeling Yasha clench around her fingers as she does, clearly hitting that spot and Beau is relentless then, but still so fucking sweet with it, the hand that’s not buried in Yasha’s cunt stroking soothingly along her hips, her chin dripping in Yasha’s juice. Beau can feel how close she’s getting, the way her whole body seems to tremble, and the rush of liquid against her fingers in the fluttering depths of Yasha. She wants to see it when it happens, wants to watch her perfect face in pure bliss. Her own underwear is soaked, her cunt fucking throbbing - it won’t take much to push her over either. Beau sucks her deeper into her mouth, licking with intent now and Yasha’s breathing is punctuated by little mewling cries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Beau, Beau, please, so close.”  Beau lifts her head for just a second, still pressing in with her fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come for me angel, that’s right, let it go, show me how you come for me.” Yasha grinds down on her fingers, chasing it, and Beau meets her thrust for thrust, burying her face back between her legs and circling her clit with her tongue before suckling it back into her mouth and that is what does it. Yasha arches off the bed, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Beau</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”, and comes, sensation roaring through her body as Beau strokes her through one and directly into a second, shuddering, electric orgasm. Beau doesn’t stop until the aftershocks are almost completely over, and even then she only pulls back far enough to press kisses to Yasha’s inner thighs as she flops back against the pillows, chest heaving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau crawls up to lay against her with a grin, blue eyes sparkling with no small degree of affection. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was...incredible, Beau.” Yasha is still dazed from the orgasm, stars in her vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would say something dumb like, ‘you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> favoured terrain’ but I won’t. Haha” Yasha chuckles at that and Beau is aching for her, stupid with want, but she’ll happily finish herself off just like this, seeing the sweat glistening across Yasha’s body, the taste of her filling her mouth.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasha, as if reading her mind, rolls to her side, pulling Beau into a searing kiss, tasting herself on her lips. Yasha snakes her hand down between them, reaching and feeling the soaked fabric of Beau’s underwear with some surprise. “Did eating me out turn you on that much Beau? These are soaked through.” Yasha asks, wonder colouring her voice as she plays with the drenched fabric, teasing Beau through it. Beau feels her cheeks flame.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “The way you respond, the way you taste and sound, the way you fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span>, all of it. Your hands, Yash, shit.” Yasha doesn’t even bother taking them off, just pulls the fabric aside and slides two fingers into Beau, using her thumb to stroke her clit. “Fuck! Yeah, just like that, gods I want you so bad Yash, you have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.” Words stream out of Beau as Yasha touches her, a constant stream that Yasha finds unbelievably endearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Why don’t you tell me Beau - tell me how you want me.” Yasha urges her on, fucking into her with sure, slow, motions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First, agh gods, first fucking moment I saw you. You walked into that tavern and I was done for. Had me looking for dark clouds every time you went away, yeah, just like that Yash. Had me touching myself to thunderstorms.” Heat rushes up Yasha’s spine at the thought of Beau getting herself off to the storm, imagining it was Yasha, maybe hoping that Yasha would appear from the rain. Yasha puts a third finger in, marvelling at the way Beau’s body stretches to accommodate her, sucking her fingers in greedily. She leans in, nipping at Beau’s earlobe so she can whisper into it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to watch, next time there’s a storm, I’d like to watch you touch yourself.”  Beau whines and Yasha can feel her body beginning to tense as it hurtles towards orgasm. “Holy shit Yasha, I’m so close, fuck, anything you want.” It doesn’t take much more from there, Yasha bites her earlobe, rubbing her clit and filling her up with three large fingers and Beau comes, and comes, and comes. Wave after wave of pleasure flowing through her, Beau is completely relaxed and loose, and just fucking full of love as she flops back, pulling Yasha to lay with her head against Beau’s chest as she regains her full senses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re quiet for a while, Beau stroking her hands through Yasha’s hair, Yasha tracing idle patterns across Beau’s abs. “Hey, Yasha?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes Beau?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can say no, and I’ll totally be cool with that, the whole no labels thing is super fine, but if you want, maybe we could-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yasha cuts her off. “Of course I want to be your girlfriend Beau. I don’t usually do that with just anyone.” She can feel Beau’s smile where her chin is resting atop her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool. D’you wanna kiss some more before we go to sleep? My lips are lonely up here.” Yasha laughs, a bright bell like peal of laughter, and tilts her head back.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hadn't intended for the first half of this to be so communication based but then it was happening and I was like, you know what? I bet that would be nerve wracking. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Feel free to find me on tumblr @oopsalldnd x</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Will I write what follows? Who can say. I love these two bumbling disasters with my whole heart.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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